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Heart of darkness: The Secret DJ on touring
And how it turns even the nicest people into monsters
Top of my list for sheer waste is the EDM giant whose team spent months – and just under a million dollars – with boffins making a system that controlled the entire (stadium) show’s lights from a tablet – because a professional lighting guy knows nothing at all about lights, right? And when the mega-doofus got there and couldn’t immediately understand how it all worked he just threw the tablet away over his shoulder.
It cost.
One.
Million.
Dollars.
I’m no saint. Although in my defence, my own hissy-fit was a scam to get a hotel upgrade. My issue was with a massive horrible sofa. It was bright purple and over eight feet tall at the backrest. No that isn’t a cartoon ‘eight feet tall!’ it was actually an 8’-high, bright purple sofa. It looked like Barney the fucking Dinosaur was lurking in the corner silently watching you have a piss. As the words “can’t possibly co-exist with furniture that hideous” came out of my mouth I experienced something alcoholics call ‘a moment of clarity’. I was truly lost. I had passed a point of no return.
Why? There is isolation and there are drugs. There is also massive ego. But it is also about being in a bubble. It’s easy to laugh at DJs complaining, but the life can genuinely be stressful and exhausting. Which adds mental croutons to the demented soup.
